How an Ex-pro Bends
by theonewhoburnedthesun
Summary: Tarrlok persuades Avatar Korra to survey a fighting ring beneath Republic City. Korra, under the impression that the ring might be a meeting place for Equalists, goes in disguise. But who is the underdog who catches her eye, battered and bruised? A few weeks following "And the Winner Is..." though all proceeding canon is irrelevant. MAYBE One-shot. Tahnorra. T for language/violence


This is the first bit of Tahnorra I've ever written, so go easy on me. I've actually had a rough version of this sitting in my writing folder since "And the Winner Is..." aired but quickly became preoccupied with other pairings *coughAmorra* but I pulled it out for two reasons:

1. My secret santa is asktastytahno on tumblr and they wanted some Tahno.

2. My favorite author/human being LadyAvatar has me hooked on Tahnorra at the moment.

But also I'm really... out of sync with writing fanfic. So I'm sorry if this isn't enjoyable as it is for me.

Enjoy! Don't forget to review. (:

* * *

"I'm not your little assistant, Tarrlok," Korra gritted through her teeth. She had been called by the Northern Water Tribe asshole to make a dramatic appearance before the council, to her _greatest pleasure. She already was teetering between two options: firebending his ass back to the North Pole or freezing his head in a block so she would never see that curling, politician smile—_

"Now Korra," Tarrlok pressed, using his sugary-sweet voice as he leaned back in his chair. "It is your _duty_ to serve the people. Now, this duty might entail responsibilities—ah, perhaps a term that you're unfamiliar with—that seem meaningless so such a…" he pressed a finger to his chin thoughtfully, "_brash_ girl such as yourself."

Korra rolled on her heels then, only stopping when Tenzin shot a glare. Take it easy, those eyes said, as if silently encouraging her to do the breathing exercises she despised so much.

"Careful Tarrlok," Tenzin warned, eyes narrowing at his fellow councilman. Then he threw a more apologetic glance at Korra; it was him, after all, who told her this meeting might be productive.

Korra extended a finger towards Tarrlok accusingly, taking a few steps closer to the semi-circle of council members. "When you manipulated me to join your little task force, I signed up to kick ass, not 'investigate' your little theories. I'm the Avatar, not some lackie you've got in the palm of your hand." She clenched her hand into a fist and let it drop to her side, annoyance clear in her tired gesture.

"This is no fool's errand, _Avatar,_" he mocked, delivering a serpentine smile. Though, his eyes betrayed his equal irritation. "This underground fighting circuit might very well be a meeting place for Equalists. You are still interested in taking them down, aren't you?"

Korra hesitated, glancing down. The night on Avatar Aang Memorial Island was clear in her mind, haunting her every footstep. Every shadow seemed to be tinged with a threat, a possibility that she—the Avatar—could be subdued. She was raised believing her bending made her untouchable. However, the night proved the opposite: they, the nonbenders, held something over the Avatar. "Of course," she answered in a brief, softer voice. "They're dangerous."

"Then you should be happy to oblige." Korra opened her mouth, and then clenched her teeth. He twisted her arm, dangling a vague ideal of duty in front of her like a carrot. Well she wasn't his _rodent_ pet!

"Now, Tarrlok, shouldn't this be put to a vote?" Tenzin spoke up in an _overly _impartial tone, waving a hand to the other council members. Korra had the urge to stick her tongue out, but simply rolled on the heels of her boots as she smiled at Tarrlok expectantly.

Tarrlok's ever-perfect smile faltered for a moment, and then he gave a long, prolonged nod. "Well of course." He straightened the cuffs on his sleeves and cleared his throat. "All in favor of sending our highly esteemed Avatar on this _very_ important mission—to both survey and gather intelligence regarding the possibility of these fighting rings being fronts for the _dangerous_ Equalist movement?"

His lip twitched as all hands, except Tenzin's, rose in the air without hesitation. "Well, Korra, I expect you to dispose of that _tribal garb _tonight, as it is far too recognizable."

Korra went bright red. "_Garb_?" she repeated, feeling the unmatched desire to firebend his face off. Were all Northern Water Tribe men so—ugh! "And _tonight?_"

"Yes, there are several fights going on _tonight,"_ Tarrlok informed, bringing his hands together. Stately and disgusting—that's what he was. "You surely can set aside any plans you have to perform your _duties._"

Rigid and fuming, Korra held back the flames in her throat. "I didn't have any plans," she replied eloquently. She mocked a curtsey with her felt cape, and then turned on her heel, marching out of the council hall. "Your majesty."

* * *

Korra reluctantly shed her water tribe 'garb' and slipped into some other clothes Tenzin had got her, but she never felt like wearing. The outfit wasn't uncomfortable, but was tight and not as warm compared to her traditional attire. _Something Asami would wear,_ she thought with a trace of bitterness, but she shook the thought from her mind. Mako wouldn't be seeing her tonight, and that… well she would never admit she would _change _for him. In fact, he probably wouldn't look her way _even if _she dressed like Asami. She was just—not his type.

She removed the spools from her hair and let the brown locks tumble down her shoulders, framing her face in a different, yet pleasing manner. She wove a black scarf around her neck and donned a generic wool coat. Now, she was as unrecognizable as any citizen. She could even, perhaps, be mistaken for an Equalist. Or at least she hoped.

Korra decided to leave Naga on Air Temple Island, since polar bear dogs were not the most common animals in Republic City. Naga wept at Korra's departure, since they both felt insecure when one was without the other. Moments were prolonged, but night was falling faster, and she managed to pull away from her lifetime friend to catch the last ferry to the city.

Once she reached the harbor of Republic City, Korra began her way on foot.

Tarrlok had informed her that this 'fight club,' as he called it, was literally _underground. _Beneath a club called _The Foaming Mouth _to be more specific. The club was not in the safest part of town, but Korra was rarely intimidated by anything. Yes, the buildings were not well kept and many of the faces she saw in passing were of questionable nature, but she kept her chin high. They couldn't touch her.

Unless they possessed that—that glove. The Equalist glove.

Korra swallowed the cluster of nerves forming on chattering lips, though she quickly abolished the latter with a small puff of fire from deep in her stomach—a benefit that came with being a firebender. Korra had been warned that the club was stingy as to whom they let in, but she hadn't really thought about how she would bypass the security. Forethought was never her strong point—she hoped she could accomplish most things through brute force. There were no windows in the building, and there most likely wasn't a roof entrance since it seemed much older than the newer buildings.

She shoved her hands in her pockets and approached the snow-frosted stoop, at the top of which was a stuffy guard. With a hint of arrogance, she failed to look him in the eye, strutting toward the door. The man stuck out his arm, blocking the entrance, and laughed. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing trying to get in this hole?"

"This _pretty little thing_ wants to see some bloody knuckles," she replied under her breath. The man raised an eyebrow, bewildered.

"Nice girls get roughed up real easy in places like this," the man informed her, smiling mischievously.

Korra narrowed her eyes. "I can take care of myself." She pushed against his arm, but he only shoved her backwards, making her stumble. Damn these shoes—they weren't nearly as sturdy as her boots.

Screw her shoes—_he_ was going to regret that.

She sauntered toward him, loosening the scarf around her neck and pulling it down. The man's eyes grew large as he watched Korra, eyes becoming hooded as she let out a long sigh.

"Listen," she told him, voice lowering into a sultrier octave—gag worthy, she thought bitterly. "My boyfriend is in there. And he's fighting… now, it depends, do you want to find out _personally_ whether he won or lost his fights? Because I'm sure he'll be happy to inform you when I tell him you wouldn't let me in." Her voice had lost all its seductiveness as she held up a finger and pressed it into the man's chest. "So, are you gonna let me in, big guy?"

He stared at her for a long moment, reluctant to give into her threat. Grudgingly, he moved to the side, unblocking the door. Smiling sweetly, Korra retightened the scarf around her neck. "Thanks, pal."

The club was dark, musty, and reeked of a mixture of vomit and alcohol. Korra conveniently pulled her scarf over her nose in an attempt not to lose her cool—but _Spirits _it smelt awful. It was much deserving of the name _The Foaming Mouth_.

A bar extended across the back of the club, beat-up tables scattered across the floor. Korra could tell the difference between the drunks and the prostitutes, the gamblers and the gang members. They eyed her like some new toy, which made her a little nervous, but she _was_ the Avatar. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she could throw down with any one of these chumps, any day of the week. Still, she proceeded with caution as to not draw attention to herself.

She approached the bar, going to the space that was least occupied. Korra shimmied into the bar stool, raising a hand to get the bartender's attention.

He approached her—slimy, just as shady as the customers—while cleaning the inside of a mug, swerving with each step he took. He suddenly glowered, slamming the mug against the bar.

"Whadya want?" he slurred, alerting Korra to the fact that he liked to drink the product he served.

"I'm lookin' to watch a fight," Korra replied under her breath.

The man guffawed loudly, shaking his head. "Sure ya don't just wanna a glass of water?" He eyed her up and down for a moment. "Or maybe it's just me who'd like a tall glass of _water._"

Tired of being treated not only like a little girl, but some piece of property on display, Korra lurched across the bar and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt. It tore slightly as she did so, him falling from her grip slightly—though there was an edge of alarm in his bloodshot eyes.

"How about you tell me where they're having the brawls, huh?" she suggested, a tilting smile on her lips. The man, terrified, lifted an arm, pointing to a door in the back. Korra released him, chuckling as she gave him a small salute as she made her way toward the door.

She pushed it open, darkness consuming her as she wound down a staircase. The profuse smell of alcohol began to fade with every step she took, and it was hotter underground too. She took off her scarf and shoved it in her pocket. Her face had been in the newspaper, but without her usual clothing and hairstyle, she might be unrecognizable. She _hoped _she would be.

The thick hot hair began to take on a new scent—one tinged with a rusty smell that Korra knew all to well from healing patients in the South Pole with Master Katara. It reeked of blood, old blood. She reached the end of the staircase and surveyed her surroundings. Standing in the center of a hallway, she noted that the only light was provided by a bright ray of luminance coming from her right. Right it was.

As Korra continued down this hall, the sound of hollering and cheering also began to grow louder. When Korra rounded another corner, she knew she was in the right place.

It was a small stadium area, bleachers surrounding a small box with ropes on all four sides. Industrial lights were strung in the rafters, illuminating the ring. Inside, two men were beating each other senseless, blood spurting all over the floor.

Korra cringed, climbing into the bleachers and sitting in a secluded area. Propping her feet on the seat in front of her, she carefully watched the fight, a morbid curiosity overcoming her.

Fists flew, sloppy and untrained; hitting skin with a ruthless violence that Korra couldn't wrap her head around. Coming from a background of bending, she rarely used hand-to-hand combat, but when she did it was always proper and precise. was powered by pure rage, she realized. If Tenzin didn't approve of her going to a pro-bending match, then fights like this were definitely not at the top of his list.

As brutal as it was… Korra was fascinated.

From where she was sitting, she tried to get a better glimpse of the man who was obviously losing. Being repeatedly punched in the gut, Korra winced and admitted that the man had some level of courage for not surrendering after one punch caused a stream of blood to spurt from his mouth. Actually, the losing man wasn't _that_ bad, despite the fact he was losing. He fluidly would avoid half of the oncoming offences; weave in the opposite direction to get his own punch in. But his opponent was too damn fast. Korra began silently rooting for the underdog, whose movements, though out of sync with an unspoken rhythm, were so similar to that of a waterbender.

With a final blow, that man was knocked to the floor, knees hitting the ground, and he looked up at his opponent. Gray eyes, though far away from the speculators' stand, sparkled under the harsh spotlight. Black hairs stuck to his cut face, dirt and sweat caked to deathly pale skin. The position he was in echoed another, and Korra suddenly felt as if she was on her knees before Amon again. Though, he did not gaze up in fear, but with resilient stubbornness.

How hadn't she seen it before?

Korra inhaled sharply, recognition sparking through her cerulean eyes as watched the final blow being delivered across his bloodied cheek.

Perplexed—yeah, that's what she was. _Tahno _was the man that, for the few moments she had watched the fight, she cheered for. The same guy whose face curled with that cocky and—and—_perverted _smirk now downturned as he held in a whelp of pain. He still didn't give up. The bell rung, signifying his adversary's victory, and he continued to punch the empty air in front of him. Korra leaned closer, subconsciously examining him closer. His—his face. It was marked with shameful defeat.

He slipped under the rope and out of the ring, slipping through the crowd and into a back room. Korra, without realizing it, began to follow him. She knew in the back of her mind doing so would blow her cover, but she also knew Tahno _might _be able to help her. Or, at least that's how she rationalized following him. Some nurturing part of her wanted to make sure the stupid jerkben—

_Ex-jerkbender, right,_ Korra reminded herself, struck with a pang of guilt.

Korra hesitated at the door Tahno had entered, cracking it open and peering inside.

Tahno stood shirtless before a sink, shoulders squared as he bent over it. He ran some water over his hands, hissing as the cold liquid ran over his knuckles. He then looked up in the mirror, staring at his reflection. His nose was probably broken; that final punch left a gash across his cheekbones.

An expression of pure disgust crossed his face for a split second before he returned some sort of favor to whichever demon he saw in his reflection by punching the mirror.

Korra flinched back as glass flew to the floor, followed quickly by Tahno's cursing; he clenched that fist, already bloody and damaged from the fight. Korra was sure that shards of glass were now embedded in his knuckles, maybe even deep enough to hit bone. And this place was so damned dirty—he could easily get an infection.

Throwing caution to the wind, Korra sauntered through the door and moved towards him. Preoccupied with his hand as he hugged it to his chest, Tahno didn't see her coming. So when she put a hand on his shoulder, meaning to gain his attention _without _startling him, his other fist came flying at her. Mid-swing, their eyes caught, identical surprise in both pairs of eyes.

Korra ducked, instinctively sliding a leg forward and sweeping Tahno's feet out from underneath him. "Damn it!" she hissed as he tumbled to the floor, whelping as he landed flat on his back. "I'm sorry," Korra murmured, kneeling at his side as she shuffled her hair from her face.

He merely shook his head, cracked lips parting as if to ask a question, but only a small breath escaped them. Korra rolled her eyes and grabbed his right hand, the damaged one, and prodded at his fingers, but he was tense. "Look, you gotta loosen your hand or it will only hurt more," she warned him.

"What are you going to do?" Tahno rasped suddenly, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, I guess I have to heal you. Morally obligated, you know. Avatar." She half-smiled as she rose again to turn on the sink.

"Right."

Korra beckoned the water with slight movements of her fingers as it poured from the faucet, creating a glove around her hand.

"What are you doing here?" Korra turned sharply at his question, perhaps one of the few times he had ever initiated a conversation without competitive connotations. He had pushed his back against the wall, still sitting on the floor. But he watched her, curious and confused—angry too, but Korra had no clue why.

"Doing my Avatar-ly duties," she answered with a shrug as she returned to him. "Now give me your hand back." And he did, and his healing session commenced.

Closing her eyes, Korra could feel that the damage was deeper than the glass injury, or even from tonight's fight. The bones in his knuckles were worn, cracked, from _repetitive _injury.

"How often do you do this?" she asked him, opening her eyes only to be met by a bewildered, envious stare, which immediately evaporated.

Tahno looked away. "What's it to you?" he drawled.

"Well, I want to know how thorough to be—if you're just gonna go mess your hand up again I don't want to waste my time," Korra muttered, mostly sarcastic.

"Then just get the damned glass out and leave."

"Spirits, Tahno, I liked you better when you were a cocky jerk. Now you're just mean." Korra shook head to keep from laughing.

Though, once again, Tahno took her banter to heart. "Me too."

A few quiet minutes passed, tense and mostly filled with Korra pulling shards of glass out one by one. Once that task was accomplished, she began to bend the wounds, which was easy enough. The injuries to the bones, however, would require healing sessions. "Uhm, if you want these knuckles fixed—you could come to me," she murmured to him. "I learned healing from the best."

"Katara, right? Avatar Aang's wife," Tahno said in a low voice. Korra nodded in confirmation. "I would have liked to learn from her."

Korra's brows rose. "You—you're—_were_—a healer?"

"I wasn't that good," he said, a light smile hinting on the corner of his mouth. After a string of irritated grimaces, the smirk made her heart leap. "If I cut myself shaving that was an easy fix, but never this." He tilted his head toward his battered hand.

"It's pretty bad," Korra chuckled.

Tahno breathily laughed, "You should see the other guy."

"I kind of did…" Korra whispered, pressing her lips together.

And for a moment, their eyes caught, sympathy passing to him from Korra's and some sort of gratefulness passing from his… Korra tugged away before she could decipher it.

"So, _Avatar,_" he started again, exhaling. "Any closer to catching him?"

Amon. For few fleeting moments, among the distraction of stumbling across her ex-nemesis and somehow falling into _this_ act of healer, she had forgotten her mission. It was Tahno, wasn't it, who told her: _"You gotta get him for me."_

"That's actually why I'm here," Korra replied, staggering to collect an explanation. "Tarrlok thinks that the Equalists are using these _illegal _fighting rings as fronts for their operation."

"Oh does he now?" Tahno muttered, rolling his eyes. "Stupid bastard. Doesn't he realize that this the only sport we have?"

"We? I—" Korra stopped, answering her own question: nonbenders. Did Tahno already shed his identity as a waterbender? Perhaps it was different, for the city people. For her, being a waterbender was her heritage, a place where one finds pride. Waterbenders in the South Pole were a rarity as well, even after 75 years of the war being over.

Korra merely shook her head. "That's why they've let them…go on, I guess. They aren't a secret to the police, but they don't want to create a…bigger divide."

"These people aren't Equalists, but if you take away these rings they'll quickly have a change of—_shit, _watch what you're doing," he snapped, and Korra quickly seized her ministrations.

"Sorry," she apologized with a small smile. "I think I just hit a nerve."

"Yeah," Tahno agreed shortly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "So that's why you're here then, to give a report? That doesn't sound like the Avatar's job."

Now _that _hit a nerve in Korra's ego. "Look pal, I didn't want to do it. Tarrlok just holds a lot of power in this stupid city and I can't do what needs to be done—"

"What needs to be done or what you _want _to do?" Tahno cut in, a sarcastic slur of words as he opened his eyes.

"I—I _want _to do what needs to be done!" Korra stammered, tensing defensively.

"Probending?" he reminded her. "Now that was a controversy, if there ever was one."

"I wanted to learn modern fighting styles that none of my master's know about!" Her fists were clenched now; Tarrlok had already accused her of being frivolous, she didn't need it from _Tahno. _"You don't know what it's like to be cooped up, only exposed to _this _and _that_ from fifty years ago!"

"Tch, excuses," he tutted.

"Ugh!" Her fists clenched, the glove of water falling around his arm as she rose. "I'm just gonna go tell Tarrlok that this place is crawling with Equalists, okay. _Goodbye_." Korra rose from the ground, reaching for the door—but something caught her hand. She looked down, seeing the half-healed hand curling around her fingers. Bewilderment in her eyes was soon replaced with anger. "Let _go_."

"I—I'm sorry," he muttered quickly. "Please, don't do that."

Korra's brows furrowed. She wasn't actually going to tattle on this place, lies at least, but Tahno's level of concern stung her. Shouldn't she be _that _concerned? She was the Avatar… She conceded and knelt down next to him again, lips pressed together.

"I am trying!" she groaned, rubbing her temples. "I want to deal with this whole benders versus nonbenders thing, but I'm not even a fully realized Avatar! And, I don't think I'll ever add up to…Aang. He was just a—kid and I'm a woman by Watertribe standards. I should be able to do this. _I'm the Avatar!"_

Tahno was silent for a moment, watching as her mind churned in frustration. The twist of his thin lips might have been interpreted as bewilderment, confusion—but none were conveyed through his words, which followed after a deep stare at Korra.

"Stop being so hard on yourself," he ground out, pulling one leg to his chest. He began to unwrap the bandaging around his ankles, a sigh escaping parted lips. "During the pro-bending tournament… I was an asshole. I'll admit it—well, I'm an ass to everyone but _you—"_ His voice severed, as if he didn't trust himself to go on. "_You _are the Avatar, and it didn't matter that you were only allowed to bend water I just _knew _you would be… the best."

A simple stare from her deep blue eyes and Tahno forced himself to look down to his ankle. Red and swollen, he instinctively moved his hand above the skin, meaning to wipe away the sweat—and a scowl crossed his face. "And now, there is no 'best' because I am _nothing._"

Korra scooted closer, placing one hand on his extended leg. Tahno flinched, looking up to her face just as she focused her eyes on his leg. Her lithe fingers twirled intricately in the air, commanding the water, his sweat, into a small orb. "You didn't look like nothing out there." She jerked her head toward the door.

"What?" he asked, immediately recoiling. "I—you were actually watching?" There was a tinge of…of flattery in his voice.

She nodded her chin slightly. "I don't care if you still have your bending—you still move like a waterbender." She intended the words to flow off her lips like a compliment, but to Tahno the mention of his bending brought upon him a wave of mourning. Korra noted this quickly and immediately discarded the orb of sweat in the nearby sink. Then with both hands she instinctively touched his leg. A sign of comfort, camaraderie. Were they beyond all that rivalry now? "I'm so sorry Tahno…" she whispered.

There was no response from the fallen waterbender, a man who had receded into a grieving state of youth. His hair might have fallen from its perfected, sculpted form, but it still was thick, falling down in front of his grey eyes. Stormclouds, Korra immediately thought as she looked into them. Stormclouds that swirled under the flickering lights, that pulsed with livid emotion that echoed Korra's sympathy. If she ever lost her bending… she wouldn't be the same. Bending was her livelihood, her destiny… without it, she wouldn't be the Avatar. Her identity would be lost.

How long had Tahno been in Pro-bending, she wondered. He was older than she was, but he must have started long before. Was sixteen the age requirement? And he might have been training years prior to that… Maybe, like her, bending had been etched into his soul. Not simply because he was a waterbender, and it was his heritage, but because it sculpted his life in more ways than one. Simple daily tasks often included bending—bathing, cleaning, doing laundry, lighting a candle. Tahno's career was his bending, however, and each aspiration relied on him _perfecting _his skill.

"Tahno?" Korra whispered.

"What?" he snapped back.

"Are you doing this fighting thing down here because you can't bend? You need to prove something?" He flinched, from that statement, sneering at her.

"You know _nothing_."

"I know we're not that different," Korra countered quickly. "I know you lived to Pro-bend, and then waking up to find you can't do it! And not just because the arena is gone but your bending is gone…" She struggled to find a line between gentle and firm, where she wasn't insensitive. "I would feel the same way."

"It's different when you're the Avatar—maybe you can go be some diplomat, maybe you could even negotiate peace with these psychopaths—though I really doubt it—and end this revolution if you didn't have bending. I was publically called out for being a slimy cheating—ugh! I don't know _why _I let it get that far!"

"Because you're ambitious," Korra murmured. "And because you're an _idiot_."

Tahno's eyebrows shot up, and he glared at her for a long moment before he burst into a fit of laughter. "You're an idiot if you think you can kick me while I'm down—" His expression sobered. "And I won't kick back."

Her laughter was melodic, but mocking as Korra's lips curled. "Go ahead—kick me. I'll give you the first shot." And, though she wasn't sure why, blood filled her cheeks and she forced herself to clear her throat. "Anyways…er, as your new healer, I advise you to quit fighting down here. You're too tender." She poked his swollen ankle, and a bruise which formed there.

"I respectfully _decline_, but thanks," Tahno replied shortly. "I—I know you saw me lose out there, but the thing is—I'm getting better. I need the money, and I love competing. It's not the same, not being able to bend, but I'm starting to understand what Amon is talking about—not that I agree with that crazy son of a bitch, but I see these people suffer." He sighed deeply. "They come here to be entertained, after working jobs with little pay and the constant oppression from the gangs. It doesn't even matter that I _am _a bender, one that can't bend, yeah, but I've been approached—threatened."

"I—I never knew it was that bad," Korra muttered sadly.

Tahno gave an equally sad nod. "Neither did I." His eyes rose to meet hers. "But now, you can do something about it. I asked you before to get Amon for me, but now I see what he means by that 'I am the solution' campaign. He thinks getting rid of bending will cure this, but it's not _bending _that should be oppressed. _Nonbenders_ should be elevated!" He spoke with a certain passion that made Korra forget she was talking to the jerk who taunted her like a child, who gazed up in fear as his bending was taken.

"Councilman Tarrlok is sure that getting rid of Amon will solve his problems. And he's using me to do it."

"Tarrlok is a dick, Korra," Tahno scoffed. "You're the Avatar, you said it yourself. _Tell him _the spirits or whatever—make him scared—demand that nonbenders and benders should be treated equal and be represented. That's what these people want. Then, Amon will be powerless because his following will only be the people as crazy as him."

Korra smiled. "You're right! If they have nothing to complain about, Amon has no leg to stand on!" She stood up quickly, blood pulsing fast in her veins, anticipation heavy. "I'm going back to City Hall now—I'm going to tell Tarrlok we're doing this all wrong! We should be helping the Equalists, the _true _Equalists who just want to be _treated _equal. Not trying to get rid of places like these!"

Tahno watched from the floor, the smallest but most genuine smiles playing on his lips. "You got it. Go get 'em, _Avatar_ Korra."

Korra's smile faltered, though she didn't know why. There was something about how he said her name—lacking condescension, disappointment. It made her chest—_glow_. The young woman found herself kneeling beside him again, staring at his cracked lips. Why was she staring? She licked her lips and looked away. "You need anything else healed before I go—and you go get yourself beat up again?"

"Yeah—my face." Tahno shifted his face, revealing the gashes on his cheeks.

Korra nodded as she beckoned water from the sink again, creating a glowing glove around her fingers. It should have felt natural—clinical—to touch his face but there was nothing natural about it. Well… in a way, she felt as if it was normal, but the feelings that accompanied the touch were…one might say unsavory. She bit down on her lower lip and closed her eyes. She could feel his blood moving, deep beneath the skin—the thumping of his heart. It was throttling fast, and she found her heart matching its pace.

Neither one of them realized when he was healed, and Korra's healing ceased and it was only a simple glove of water gliding up and down his cheek as Korra's fingers followed. Her fingers even went lower, beyond the realm of the now-gone bruise and pressed his lower lip, opening his mouth. The hiss of breath that escaped his mouth startled Korra and the water fell down Tahno's chest—his erm, _bare _chest.

Korra grimaced and pulled away, apologetic, but his brows merely furrowed, as his lips remained parted. "I should go," she whispered to him, but didn't move.

"No," he said firmly, gray eyes hardening. "Finish what you started."

What in spirits' name did he mean by that? Korra's mind raced, fished for possibilities, but it was all she could do not to squeak as she found herself moving closer to him—

And then it seemed that he was far too impatient for her to make up her mind.

His good hand snapped around the back of her neck, pulling her in for the most sudden, unexpected kiss she had ever received. It was actually the third kiss she had ever had, but the only one that made her feel...safe. Her first came from a boy in her tribe, but Korra never saw him again. The second she stole from Tahno—what a mistake that was. And now, this. Though Korra had been surprised by the maneuver, she didn't pull away. She didn't _want _to pull away. It felt like the most she could do, to satiate the need to help him, to heal him in ways that she was incapable of. She couldn't give him back his bending, but she could be his friend. Or, as it turned out, a little bit more.

It was only a few moments that passed before he broke the kiss, though his fingers still tangled with the hairs that tumbled down the back of her neck. Tahno stared at her lips as he pulled back, but they soon moved to meet her eyes. "I'll see you again, Korra," he said in a rasp, one which seemed to arise with a struggle. "And maybe I can give you some private fighting lessons."

Korra pulled herself together, forcing a knowing smirk, even though she still felt dizzy… caught up in a moment that'd already passed. "If you can actually _win _a match, I'll consider it."

"My next one is in a few minutes—it won't take very long for me to win."

"So confident already?" Korra laughed.

"I don't need confidence when I have the Avatar in my corner—so to speak," Tahno murmured with a roll of his eyes. "But… it's up to you. But, win or lose, I can imagine you'll like watching me get hit over and over."

Pink rose in Korra's cheeks, and she wanted to kick herself for being so girlish. She wrapped her hand behind her neck, fingers lacing with his as she leaned close to him again, if only to look deeper to Tahno's storm-gray eyes. "Not as much as you'd think."

* * *

I'm sorry I can't angst :3

Anyhow, yay I finished! I'm proud. Review?


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